Calculated Risk
by hulklinging
Summary: It's not often that David is asked out while inside another man. Granted, this is an autopsy and the cop is hot, but still.


"You do know your pacing isn't going to make this any faster?"

David hasn't met this particular cop yet. Detective, he thinks. Homicide, probably, because he seems awfully stressed about the corpse David is currently elbow-deep in.

The man sighs, and runs a hand through his silver hair. Judging by how it's sticking almost straight up, this isn't the first time he's done this. "Can you just… tell me the cause of death?"

David hopes that a raised eyebrow will be enough of an answer for him. The detective sees it, he must, and honestly he must be new at this, because what comes out of his mouth next is close to a whine.

"Can you give… an educated guess of a cause of death?"

David takes a moment to breathe and remind himself that making himself the cause of this detective's death will not help anyone.

"What's the rush?" he says instead, not really because he cares (he's trying to concentrate, here) but because maybe this will distract the man for a few minutes. Even a few seconds would be a relief, right now.

This question actually gets the man to stand still. He's staring at David in a completely different way than he was moments before. David doesn't know what exactly the change is, but he can feel that it's there.

"What if I told you I had a date?"

He phrases it like a challenge, which is annoying. Everything about this boy is annoying. David is not easily annoyed, so in spite of himself, he's now impressed and annoyed. And also distracted. Is that break of the ribs from a hasty burial, or from blunt force? He is not on his game right now.

"That's… nice?" He needs to open the chest up some more. "Why don't you go on the date? We'll still be here when you're done."

"Aren't you going to ask me who it's with?"

"I don't even know your name." David doesn't feel bad about this at all, but the man frowns, like he's actually hurt.

"It's Thomas. Tommy. I said that. Like, twice."

"Oh." He tends to focus, when work is in front of him. Which is why being so thrown by this Tommy is so off putting. "Sorry."

"It's you, by the way," says Tommy, hurt forgotten.

"It's me what?" If he can just get another inch here…

"Who I'm going on the date with. It's you."

David actually pulls his hands out of the body. "Excuse me?" He's so very rarely speechless. He can rattle off every symptom of a poisoning without even thinking about it. He knows more 'useless facts' (according to his roommate, who is a medical resident at the hospital down the street and really isn't one to talk) than the average Trivial Pursuit. He always has something to add to a conversation, if he so chooses to.

Tommy has made him lose his tongue.

What the fuck.

"I. Why do you think we're going on a date?"

And that makes the boy shoot him the cockiest, most irritatingly attractive smirk he's ever seen on a human being. Maybe this guy isn't human, and already his brain is suppling the names of various imps and spirits this man fits the description of.

"Because I'm offering you a meal with an actual living companion. And because if you say no, then I've succeeded in making you stumble. And you don't look like a guy who likes that."

He's right, of course. Very right. David sighs, resigned, and starts stripping off his gloves.

"Fine. But you're paying."

There's a moment of shock in Tommy's eyes, which brings a slow smile to David's face. He's back on solid ground.

Noodles is the dinner of choice. Tommy is actually an entertaining dinner date, when not stuck in a small room with a stranger and an unsolved murder. Of course, the date is cut short when the leading suspect in the murder case takes offence to Tommy showing up in his restaurant. The date ends with the man in cuffs and Tommy once again whining, this time over the bullet graze on his arm. He got it while pushing David out of the way. David tries to pretend he's not absolutely dazzled by this.

"I just knew my captain would say no to the direct approach, you know? And I knew it was him, but it was an instinct thing, not something that would make him change his mind."

"So the date was a cover?" David stretches, and tries to remember if Josh is working tonight. "Next time, just tell your date they might get shot at. I'd have worn running shoes."

"Next time?" Tommy asks, sounding surprisingly hopeful.

David gives him a look.

Tommy shoots him a look in return.

"Next time," David finds himself saying, against his better judgement. "I get to pick the restaurant."

"Deal," says Tommy. David makes a mental note to experiment with ways to make Tommy recreate the smile he is giving him now. Ways that don't involve danger and bodily harm.

His brain replays the way Tommy pushed him out of the way of the suspect's shot. That had been amazing. That may be one of the coolest things to ever happen to him.

Okay, he admits to himself. Maybe a little danger.


End file.
